I watched the rain rivulet down the window pane. Peering beyond to the garden my gaze fell on the sopping trees and their deep, leafy green hew, darkened by the torrential downpour. Cupping my wine glass in both hands, I sipped it steadily, for comfort. A Lockdown stalwart - along with toilet paper, chocolate, Schitt's Creek and an uneasy sense of deepening dissatisfaciton with life.

In the last year, I careened wildly from wholesome, healthy and happy; to a sugar craving, disgruntled, bloated, fuming, guilt ridden basket case every month. 

My acupuncturist stated calmly that my Wood Qi was stagnant. My therapist compassionately said unclear boundaries were the issue. My GP believes its my hormones. My friends tilt their heads to the side with soft eyes and rush in with, "ah look it, completely normal". In the middle of it all, here I am...

Clinging to wine and Lindt sixty-two percent dark, my notebooks, pens, cycle tracker apps and exercise regimes. Lurching my way through various short lived diets. Half empty bottles of Agnus Castus, B-Complex, Calcium, Evening Primrose and Magnesium clutter the top of the fridge. All - just - to - feel - normal. To be myself, everyday. Not just for half the month. Full, fat tears spill down my cheeks and splosh without fuss into the glass. I don't even have the care to wipe them away. I exhale deeply and raise the rim to my trembling bottom lip.

This drive to feel at home in my skin, was an old familiar tune. The rawness and potent wine brings me back to a night decades ago in a late night lock-in bar on Manhattan's East Side. The bar had long since closed it doors. Heavy red velvet curtains drawn against the foggy windows and creeping dawn. Around a big circular table I sat flanked by waitresses and bartenders. Shirt collars open, sleeves rolled up, joints poised between nicotine stained fingers and french tip manicured nails. Tattoos, shaved heads, dreadlocks, white, brown, black, travellers, actors and immigrants. A melting pot of accents swirled above my pinot drenched head like parseltongue. I wanted was to fit in then too, in this edgy collective, who all seemed so settled in their own multi-coloured, beautiful skin. The bar was called SNAFU - Status Normal All Fucked Up. It summed up life in New York City in 2002 with just five letters. Everything had changed, yet had anything, within? 

Dear Reader…….

I wrote this piece in January 2021. For over 12 months my monthly mood swings and PMS had intensified, for 7 - 10 days each month, I had back pain, bloating, exhaustion - that's the easy stuff! Bouts of rage (I called it the Red Mist), tears, feeling low and unmotivated. Like the joy seeped out of me. I've taken advice from anyone I can trust and some I don't (I'm looking at you celery juicers)! 

Acupuncture was costly but incredibly helpful but during Covid19 I couldn't even subject myself to the discomfort of needles to get much needed relief. I learned about Peri-Menopause from my friend, a Yoga Teacher a few years my senior and in her Menopause. Having self-educated on her own journey, she encouraged me to get a blood test to examine my hormone levels. It was new, unfamiliar territory for me. And I thought I was fairly knowledgable about my own body?!

After a particularly tough month I conceeded.  It ruled out peri-menopause and Dr. Jane prescribed a light contraceptive pill. I'd been trying avoid artificial hormones for the last 4 years, so I felt defeated. My lovely, kind Doctor patted my arm gently and assured me I had lots of company. As women we often suffer silently, swallowing the anguish down for fear of being seen as "crazy" or worse - hormonal! There are a wide range of hormone regulating pills on the market, she promised we could keep trying until I found relief. I also learned there are many women who take Prozac to help for just a few days each month. 

6 weeks in and I feel infinately better, more balanced, calmer and happier. I feel comfortable in my skin again. Yes I still loose my cool, get bloated and my back gets a bit niggly, but it's all manageable. I feel sad that I suffered for so long and in the end, a teeny tiny daily dosage has made all the difference. I am not alone. Recent research estimates about 75% of women have PMS during reproductive years, only 3-8% have Premenstrual dysphoric disorder - similar to PMS but symptoms are more severe and tend to involve emotions. For some, intense mood swings interfere with daily life. Others experience premenstural exacerbation - when an exisiting condition including anxiety, bipolar disorder or depression becomes worse in the weeks or days leading up to menstruation. 

I'm sharing this to encourage you - so that if you feel intense PMS symptoms, please don't assume it's normal and there's nothing that can be done. Reach out for help, try alternative & holistic therapies if you're drawn to them, visit your GP, educate yourself. I feel there was a huge gap in my knowledge about peri and menopause. It's a normal part of human life. The more we know, the less we fear.